


Dancin' in Circles

by yaladytauriel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: /tears up, F/M, I mean it's something, also i should say this takes place long long before the canon of the game, and yeah that's his Son, anyway this is, rated T for teen bc it talks about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 09:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20171701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaladytauriel/pseuds/yaladytauriel
Summary: Following some personal revelations, two old acquaintances have a long-awaited conversation.





	Dancin' in Circles

Sometimes, usually after she’d spent too much time with Rose and Bruno and more than too many drinks, Jessica would reminisce on those four nights seventeen years ago, four nights that left her lonely and raising a son. 

She didn’t like admitting that to anyone — as far as the town was concerned, Jesse’s father was either one of a string of lovers or someone she’d met while on holiday and certainly _ not _anyone noteworthy, nor was he all that memorable to Jessica. He wasn’t talked about. Jesse had asked twice, once when he was young and wondering why Amelia had two moms and he only had one, and once right before he joined Elizabeth and her gang of gun runners if she thought his father would be proud of his decision. She had honestly told him she didn’t know, because she didn’t know what Gabriel would think of joining a gang. They hadn’t known each other in any way except Biblical, and most of the time, that was fine. She didn’t need a man around. She worked hard on her own, and when someone dropped by, they always helped. 

But those times when she fell deep to the bottle or got wistful looking at Rose and Bruno and those goddamn _ looks _ they gave each other, Jessica would go home to her old farmhouse and reminisce and fantasize and go to bed pretending her hands were _ his _hands, though hers were too small and by now, rougher than she remembered his being. 

And as far as him being _ memorable, _ it was hard to forget him. Jesus, his name was everywhere now, but he was also by _ far _ the best man she’d been with, and he was also the _ last _man, really, because men didn’t like being with a woman whose son might pop in needing a glass of orange juice before bed or his gang needed a place to crash. 

But this wasn’t one of those moods. 

She was chopping vegetables, her heart in her mouth, worried sick about Jesse. Elizabeth had come by just the previous night, telling Jessica all about the raid and the shootout and Jesse getting taken in, back to the Overwatch base — she was still crashed on the couch, a few of the other gang members strewn across the living room or in the other three bedrooms in the house. 

Her phone rang, a sharp metallic sound bringing Jessica out of her reverie. 

“Jessica McCree?” The woman’s voice had a fancy accent. Jessica could picture her in her head — brunette, short hair, all leg and probably about twenty-five. 

“Yeah?” 

“Hi, this is Penelope Keyes, I’m calling on behalf of your son.” 

“Jesse? Have you seen him? Is he alright?” Jessica cleared her throat, a little embarrassed at the pitch shift. “Sorry, I just—” 

“No, no, I understand completely. I wanted to let you know that he’s safe and unharmed, and I was actually hoping to discuss a few things with you.” This woman, Penelope, was a little too professional, Jessica thought. _ I mean, Jesus, that’s my son she’s talking about, not some kid whose grades went down. _

Jessica resumed cutting her vegetables. Elizabeth came into the kitchen, a question on her lips, but Jessica just pointed to a stack of potatoes. The young woman nodded and started to peel. “What did you need to discuss?” She thought it best to match the professionalism, at least for the moment. There would be time for emotional outbursts later. 

“Right. Well, I’m not sure how much you know, but we’ve recently detained him for his involvement in the Deadlock Gang.” 

Elizabeth perked up. Jessica made a motion to signal she wouldn’t say anything. “I know that much.” 

“I assumed so. We’ve agreed to a deal with him, but we’ll need to go over some of the details with you, as he is still legally a minor. We can come to you, or we can fly you out to Gibraltar, if you have a valid passport.” 

Oh, Elizabeth was _ angry _ now. 

“Um… if it’s not too much trouble…” 

“Oh, not at all!” Penelope laughed. “I’ll set up a flight as soon as I can, and you and Commander Reyes and me will go over all the details. I’ll also go ahead and just tell you about the security protocols while we’re on the phone, if that’s alright?” 

Jessica was stuck a few phrases back. “I’m sorry, um… Commander Reyes?” 

“Commander Gabriel Reyes, yes.” 

A lot was going on at once. Jessica sat down across from Elizabeth, trying and failing to process. 

“Miss McCree?” 

“Sorry, I — I’m here.” 

“I know this must be overwhelming. Is it alright if I go over the security details while we’re on the phone, or do you want me to send over a dossier?” She said it _ doss-i-yay, _ not _ doss-ear. _ Why that stuck out, Jessica didn’t know. _ The mind latches onto the strangest things. _

“If you could just send something over, that would be great.” 

“Of course. And you’re still living in your farmhouse off I-59 in Black Mountain?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Excellent. I’ll let you know a more exact time, but we’ll be around in the next few days to go over everything, okay?” 

“Alright. Thank you.” 

“Of course, Jessica. Thank you for your time.” 

As soon as Penelope was off the phone, Elizabeth leapt up. “That _ sellout _ ! Oh, Jesus, I really thought he was gonna keep quiet but _ no, _ they had to work out a _ deal, _and —” She and her tirade went upstairs, waking Ramon, Leland, Ashley, and John. 

“Jessica!” 

“Yes, Ashe?” It was only Elizabeth when no one else was around. 

“When are those Overwatch pricks coming around?” 

“Ashe, you are going to be long gone by then.” Jessica stood. “I love you all, but you know where I’m going to fall when my son’s on the line.” 

“Jessica!” Ashe threw out her hands. “He sold us out!” 

“I will find out exactly how much they know, and you know I’ll let you know if y’all need to worry. But that’s my _ son, _and I’m not a member of your gang anyway.” 

“Jess—” 

“So I’d _ suggest _ you all hightail it out of here before those ‘Overwatch pricks’ _ get _here.” 

This was going to put a dent in their relationship, but the girl was quick to forgive most slights. Without much word, Elizabeth gathered up her crew and their bikes and sped off the property. 

_ Damn it, now I’ve got all this stew. _

The secretary had, indeed, sent over a _ doss-i-yay _ of the security protocols and a schedule Jessica paid little attention to as she drank and pored over old photo albums. There was one she’d never shown anybody. It wasn’t really a photo album, per se; she’d been into journaling and kept a beautiful little diary that summer she turned twenty, plenty of pressed flowers and receipts and two polaroids she rarely looked at. 

One of her, barefoot in the kitchen, wearing nothing but his soft T-shirt, hair half-up, taken just before she’d heard the camera snap and she’d gotten playfully angry and they’d barely made it to the couch for another round. The other was of them, the camera angle a little wonky because they’d been laying down in the field out back when she took it, and they looked like drunk, idiot kids because they were. 

Jessica thought, maybe when he saw her again he’d remember and he’d quit with Overwatch and live out here with her. It was seventeen years ago, but he’d said he liked the farm. _ I like how quiet it is out here, _ he’d said that last night. He was leaning off her balcony and smoking a cigarette she’d rolled for him, half-wrapped in her linen sheets. She hadn’t been wearing anything, she remembered, just her long hair and a farmer’s tan, and he was looking at her like he really might have stayed _ then, _but he obviously hadn’t. 

_ But maybe he just needs some reminding. _ Her eyes strayed over to a low-cut blouse and a pair of jeans she only wore when trying to pick men up at the bar. 

_ No, no, this is about Jesse. This is _ not _ about you so don’t try to seduce the man you haven’t seen in almost two decades. _ She _ did _look him up, and there was nothing on his Wikipedia page about his being married or anything, and then she felt a fool so she put her holopad away and went to bed. 

They showed up the next day in a big black car, right at eleven in the morning. Jessica was a whole bundle of nerves, for a lot of reasons. What if she fucked it all up and Jesse got sent to prison? What if Gabriel did, in fact, decide to stay? What if, when he realized who she was, he ruined her or her son’s life out of spite? 

When she heard the car pull up, she stood and straightened her high-necked blouse out and left the house, trying to prepare for whatever the universe threw at her. 

Oh, Jesus, he was better-looking than he had been seventeen years ago, rugged where he used to be tough, not a mark on him despite his illustrious military history, in a tight black T-shirt and fitted jeans and thick black sunglasses, climbing out of the car like he was absolutely going to ruin her life. _ Christ. _

Then the passenger got out, and Jessica realized how badly she’d been playing herself. 

Penelope, that had to be her, was not what Jessica had been picturing at all. She was probably about thirty-four, with the longest hair Jessica had ever seen, rich black, her skin rosy and porcelain, not a blemish on her. She _ was _ all leg, and thin too, she’d been right about that, in an expensive-looking black dress, floppy sunhat, and patent leather heels that, even while snickering to herself, Jessica had to admit Penelope looked _ incredible _in them. 

Penelope waved. “You must be Jessica! I’m Penelope, we spoke on the phone.” Jessica noticed a glinting ring on her finger, and whatever hope she might have had evaporated. Of _ course _ he was engaged to this perfect, classic, beautiful woman. They were _ made _for each other. 

Jessica waved, deflated. 

Penelope started to walk towards the house, but then stopped when she noticed Gabriel wasn’t following. She walked back, and all Jessica caught of their conversation was _ uncomfortable _ and _ not that bad. _

She’d been hoping his memories of those nights had been as good as hers, but maybe he’d connected the dots and didn’t want the responsibility of a son. Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with a woman who kept kids out of wedlock. 

They walked back, holding hands this time. 

She let them in. Neither she or Gabriel made eye contact, but Penelope seemed entranced by the whole situation. Jessica wondered if she’d ever been out to the country before. Probably not, given her shoes. 

“You—” She cleared her throat. “Do you want anything?” 

Penelope clasped her hands in front of her. “No, not for me. We had breakfast before we left. Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to look around a little.” 

_ And just leave me alone with a man who doesn’t even want to see me? _“Sure, go ahead. Just be careful of the blackberries around back.” 

Penelope went out the front door, leaving Jessica and Gabriel alone. 

“You still have your couch,” he said. 

“Yeah, not much has changed since the last time you were here. We, um, we have some matters to discuss, right?” 

He took off his sunglasses and shook his head. God, he had pretty eyes. “No, Penelope’s got all those notes. She thought it would be good if we talked. Big believer in conversation.”

“Oh. Well, um, I’m not really—” 

“Me neither, honestly, but I still… I’d like to — I have a few things I want to say.” 

She looked at her old kitchen table. “Come… on in, I guess.” 

He sat at the table, muscular and imposing, and she started making some tea, just to have something to do rather than sit and stare like she had at that bar all those years ago. “Go on,” she said. “I’m listening.” 

He sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, Jessica, I really wish I’d known. Then, maybe…” 

“Oh. No, Gabriel, I didn’t — you don’t need to feel guilty or something. I mean, I didn’t know how to contact you and by the time I figured it out you were… I found out, like, mid-August.” 

“I just keep thinking, maybe if I’d been here, you know, I might have been able…” 

“Maybe, but you would have missed out on saving the world and all that.” _ And her, _she thought, but didn’t say. 

“What about you? It couldn’t have been easy on your own like this.” He gestured. 

“I didn’t mind, really.” She was tired of waiting for the water to boil, so she sat down and finally looked him in the eye. He looked _ guilty, _ like all this business with Deadlock was _ his _ fault. “Look, if I hadn’t wanted Jesse, I wouldn’t have raised him. I had plenty of help, from my sister and brother-in-law and my rustbucket omnic, and the town was real sweet with him. He grew up fine, and I didn’t feel the need to tell you or anything. I thought about it, but in the end, I decided he would be _ my _son, and that was just fine with everyone else.” 

He didn’t say anything. 

“And look, maybe if you were _ here, _he wouldn’t have joined up with Deadlock, but maybe he would have anyway. I don’t think he was… lacking masculine influence or something, he just wanted to help his community.” She knew it was risky, telling him anything about Deadlock, but she hoped he would put his job aside for a few minutes. 

“I wish I’d been here,” he said. 

The tea started whistling, and Jessica finished it up, putting two mugs down in front of them. “You can be there for him now, I guess.” 

“That’s what Penelope says.” 

“You told her?” 

He nodded. “I figured it out when we got the criminal record back.” 

“What did she have to say?” 

“She said almost exactly what you did. I shouldn’t feel guilty, I just need to do right by him now, all that.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and even though he was almost certainly engaged to the woman outside, Jessica wanted to run her hand through, too. “What — what was he like?” 

“He’s a good kid. I know he might not look it right now, but he _ is _. He just… wanted to help his community, y’know?” 

“That’s what he told Penelope.” He took a drink. “How’d he get involved with the gang?” 

Jessica didn’t want to say anything, not if this was going to be a business conversation. “Are you asking as his father or an agent?” 

“I — His father.” 

Jessica wasn’t convinced, but she went ahead anyway. She’d just have to tell Elizabeth later, and skirt around some truths that were on a need-to-know basis. “He was approached by a friend of his, who wanted to steal guns, make money. He joined on the condition they’d help the community, give back to the people.” 

“Noble of him.” 

“Like I said, he’s a good kid.” 

“Did it work?” 

“For the most part, yeah. We’re not thriving due to their income or anything, but y’know, certain projects have made real headway through some ‘anonymous’ donors. Not just here, but in the surrounding towns, too.” 

This seemed to trouble him, but he didn’t get the chance to say anything before Penelope came back in. 

“You have a lovely place here, Jessica,” she said, pulling a holopad out of her leather satchel. “It seems like an idyllic place to grow up.” She gestured to the seat next to her fiancée. 

“Oh, go ahead. Um, yeah. It’s a good place to raise a kid.” 

Penelope beamed, rosy cheeks gleaming with her smile. “That’s wonderful. Now, if you don’t mind, there is still some business to discuss and then we’ll be out of your hair.” 

“Sure, right.” Jessica tried to pay attention as Penelope went on about the ins and outs of Jesse’s position within Overwatch, but it was hard to focus when she still had a horde of thoughts going through her head, questions she wanted to ask, reassurances she wanted to give. 

She settled for a long look down the road after they left. 

  


Penelope woke up before Gabe, as she usually did, and slipped on her short nightgown and robe before going out on the motel balcony. 

The morning was already warm, the smell of coal and railroad in the air. She leaned on her elbow, looking over the redrock town, at the Native American fetish shops and Texmex food places, most still sleeping soundly. 

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The boy in the interrogation room was so _ young, _ and Penelope just wanted to _ help. _ She had gone in and offered a deal, information for security. And even when Gabe had come to her in a panic, confessing to an unknown mistake, she hadn’t cared. _ It’ll be good for you both, _ she’d told him. _ He needs someone on his side, and you need to be there for him, now that you know. _ But now it seemed like such a mistake. Not offering Jesse his chance at freedom, _ that _ she felt good about. But she could have handled all the arrangements with Jessica over the phone, they didn’t _ have _to come to New Mexico. She’d thought, maybe if he had the chance to talk to her, that might absolve some of the guilt, but he didn’t seem any better than he had the day before. 

_ The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, _ she mused, looking out across the desolate landscape. _ At least the road to fights with your fiancée. _ They hadn’t fought about it _ yet, _but she could feel the tension brewing. They were going to, and she wanted to avoid that. 

She went back inside and lay on the bed, trying to solve the problem she’d created. _ Maybe they just need to talk again, _ she thought. _ Or maybe I should talk to her. _Would talking help at all? She liked to pretend that was the answer to everything. 

“What’s wrong?” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“About?” 

“Talking to Jessica, me offering Jesse a chance, all of it.” 

“I… think you’re right about Jesse. He didn’t deserve what would have been coming to him.” 

“Okay.” 

“I feel guilty about… not being there?” He flopped back onto the pillow. “I just wish I’d known. And she told me it’s okay, she really had no intention of telling me, but I mean, shit, I could have done _ something. _Maybe, if I had, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.” 

She rolled over to look at him. “You can’t blame yourself, Gabe.” 

“I still _ do _.” 

She frowned. “I’m sorry for dragging you out here,” she said. “I thought it might help.” 

“No,” he sighed. “Don’t feel bad about it, you did what you thought was right. Honestly, it wasn’t bad to talk to her, I just wish…” He shook his head. “You’re right, I can at least do something about it now.” He sat up. “Do you want breakfast?” 

She laughed. “You’re deflecting.” 

“Maybe I am. But I’m also hungry.” 


End file.
